


where the wild things are

by Green



Series: The Rest Is Still Unwritten [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Stiles Stilinski, Childhood, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: Stiles packs a bag and goes looking for the wild things.
Relationships: Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Rest Is Still Unwritten [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/369341
Comments: 67
Kudos: 524





	where the wild things are

**Author's Note:**

> So I realize I write a lot of this kind of thing with the neglectful sheriff but I can't help myself.

He didn't think his room would become a forest, but he knew where there _was_ a forest. And maybe that was where the wild things lived.

Stiles doesn't wonder if he's wild enough. His father, just today, told Mrs. McCall that Stiles is 'too wild' and that it's making him crazy.

He doesn't have a wolf onesie like Max in the book, but he does have a little hoodie with a wolf on the back. It'll have to be enough.

He grabs the backpack he's already packed. It has a blanket, a sandwich and a juice box, and some bandaids in case he scrapes his knee (he does that a lot, but he's gotten good at putting his own bandaids on).

His father is sleeping deeply, snoring downstairs in his chair. He smells like whiskey, which makes Stiles's stomach do rolls, but he's not going to get sick. He goes out the back door.

There's a path his mother used to take him on, one that leads down to the Preserve. His mom only would let him play on the edges of the forest, and only where she could see him, but she's gone now and he can go looking for the wild things. He doubts they live on the edges. He never saw them there, anyway.

He doesn't want to be the wild things' king. He'll leave that up to braver boys like in the book. Stiles can stare and stare without blinking, but even if he was king, he wouldn't do bad things like sending the wild things to bed without supper. He knows what it's like to be hungry because before he learned how to fix his own food, he was hungry a lot. 

Now he can fix sandwiches, and open soup cans, and work the microwave, all without making so much of a mess that he gets yelled at.

He has a sandwich in his backpack now because he doesn't think the wild things have a microwave.

He walks. It's dark, but he's brought a flashlight. He carefully picks his way over logs and around boulders. He does fall down a few times, but he doesn't want to stop to put on a bandaid yet. He wants to find the wild things, first!

And he won't leave, not like the boy in the book. If the wild things love him, why would he want to go?

He can almost hear his mother reading the book. "I'll eat you up, I love you so," she'd say, and Stiles would giggle and let her hug him and play-bite at his fingers. 

The memory makes him smile, but then he's sad again because his mother is gone. 

Where are the wild things?

Maybe he needs to call out to them. "Wild things! Wild things!" His voice isn't very strong because he's been crying. He clears his throat and tries again. "Wild things! Please come take me away now!"

He looks around. He sighs. There are no wild things. Maybe he hasn't walked far enough? His knee is starting to really hurt from where he fell over a log in the dark, so maybe he should put a bandaid on it now, after all.

He sits down hard on the ground. It's wet enough that he can feel the cold seeping through the seat of his jeans. He shivers but it doesn't deter him. He looks at his knee and notices that the denim is ripped right through, and he's bleeding.

He sighs and gets a bandaid out. He's all out of Batman because his father doesn't know to buy them, so it's just a plain bandaid the color of his skin.

Before he can put it on, though, he hears a noise. A big dog — a wolf? — walks out from behind a tree. Her eyes are burning red. 

"Are you a wild thing?" Stiles asks, voice trembling with both excitement and fear. "Are you here to take me away?"

A man walks into the clearing next. He looks almost human, except his eyes are glowing too. His are blue, and he stalks close, looking dangerous.

Stiles swallows hard. "Hi."

The man smiles. "Are you lost?"

Stiles looks at the wolf. She's sitting not far from him, looking like a queen. Oh. The wild things here already have a leader. That's good. He didn't want to be their king anyway.

He looks back at the man and shakes his head. "I was looking for the wild things."

The man nods. "I'm Peter. And you are…?"

"Stiles," he answers. His knee hurts. Stings. When he looks at it, it hurts even more. Tears start to prick his eyes. 

"May I help?" Peter asks.

The wolf comes closer to peer at Stiles's knee, too. Stiles eyes her warily, but he doesn't think she'll hurt him. 

He nods at Peter, and then the man comes closer and kneels in front of him. When he touches Stiles's knee, it stops hurting, just like magic.

"Don't you think your parents will worry about where you are?" Peter asks him as he takes an alcohol wipe from Stiles's backpack.

Stiles shakes his head. "My mom died. And Dad... " He doesn't know how to say it without making his dad sound like he's bad. He's not bad, just grieving too much to take care of Stiles. Not that Stiles needs help anymore. He can cook his own food and wash his clothes. 

"Yes, sweetheart?" Peter asks. He puts two bandaids on Stiles's knee, covering all the scraped up parts.

Stiles shrugs and changes the subject. "Can I be a wild thing with you?"

"You're not afraid we'll eat you up?" Peter asks with a sly smile.

Stiles smiles back, though he feels shy. "You don't eat little boys, do you?"

The wolf darts close and licks his hand. Stiles flails, not expecting that. He looks at her with wide eyes and then starts laughing. He remembers his mom nibbling at his fingers. 'I'll eat you up, I love you so.' That's what she'd say. 

The laughter turns to crying. Peter doesn't tell him to stop. He pulls him close against him, careful of his knee, and holds him in his arms. He rocks him a little and hums a song Stiles doesn't know.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't going to be added to. I think it stands alone like this as a vignette or something.


End file.
